That Button - a Temper oneshot
by bloody.pinprick
Summary: I said, "So. I take it... I wasn't supposed to press that button, was I?" L simply sighed. "No, Leila. I'm afraid that my need for cake didn't quite necessitate such a reaction." Rated T for language. spoilers for 'Temper'. Blah. Genres are inaccurate because I suck. Thank you.


_Hello, hello! Below is a oneshot I've written for my Death note fanfic Temper.  
This particular one shot was requested by leedleleedlelawliet, who was the 50th reviewer and got to pick a prompt._

 **"So… I wasn't supposed to press that button?" featuring my OC, Leila, and Death Note character L**

 _Needless to say, this was very fun to write once I got into it. Unfortunately, because I'm a bad, bad author who does bad, bad things, our friend That Button only makes a brief appearance. Please forgive me! I promise said appearance had lasting effects!_

 _Anyways, enjoy, and tell me what you think!_

* * *

All I can think about, sitting here in the lonely silence of my apartment, is that I wouldn't be alone or in my apartment if I had just spoken up. L was a far greater genius than I. He would be alive if I had been so kind as to point out that Rem was so weirdly protecting that awful model. At this point, though, I can only regret.

I spend half of my life passed out on the couch now. Not literally passed out, but just... in an immobile state, unwilling to really do anything. I once had a strong drive to live and to have a lifetime of action and work and trying new things, but now that drive is absent. I'm not going to kill myself, but I don't exactly feel as if life is a great thing, either.

I'm not on the couch now, though. It's pretty late and I'm exhausted, but I'm still working on the Kira case on my own. Vigilante justice, I suppose. Without all the resources I had working with L, things are a lot more time consuming and a lot more difficult. I'm relying on some highly caffeinated tea to keep me up and running, and luckily for me, it's been effective so far.

Still, I'll need to get some sleep eventually. I seriously doubt that the perpetually exhausted look will suit me as well as it did him.

I make tea using my coffeepot. This allows me to either work, or be lazy, while my tea is brewing, and it produces a half-gallon of the stuff in no time at all. Besides that, when I make tea without the coffee pot, I can never get it the right strength.

I listen to the strangled noise of water running through the filter - or whatever makes that noise, for that matter - as I slam my fingers unhappily on my keyboard. Unfortunately, my vigilante justice requires a lot of hacking, something that L would probably not approve of my doing if he was still alive. Not that it really matters anymore.

I suddenly notice that the coffee pot has stopped making that godforsaken sound and look up. "Eh? That was pretty quick..."

Then, in perfect time, my computer makes a small beeping noise good only for transmitting instant headaches. I look down and see that a small notification box has popped up to inform me that I only have two percent battery left, and that my computer is shutting down. "What? But you're plugged in," I mutter angrily, glancing around the arm of the couch to the outlet, and noting that my laptop is still plugged in.

It is at this exact moment that every light in my apartment shuts off.

I plant a kick in the coffee table and swear, feeling satisfied only when I hear the wood crack underneath my foot.

The computer shuts down, robbing me of the faint glow of my screen. I scowl. Now the only source of light is the window, which is lit up with the brilliant glow of the city. This is the only power outage I've ever experienced with this apartment. Still, the timing is so inconvenient that I feel rage classing through the irrational side of me. It's fairly stupid, actually - it's the same side of me that caused me to throw vases at L and to kiss Light in Aoyama. I sort of wish I could wipe that part away, for all its horrible mood swings that take me over at all the worst moments.

Then my mind goes to the only other power outage I've ever experienced in Japan, and I involuntarily smile. It wasn't so long ago when it happened, but it was so chaotic that the details of it all are fresh in my mind.

It was one of those late nights that I didn't feel like sleeping, at L's new headquarters - that incredible skyscraper that somehow managed to blend in with everything around it in spite of its awesome size and unique purpose. I rarely went to my apartment. By 'my apartment' I mean 'my floor'. It was really nice and I was allowed to decorate it in any way I wanted, but I didn't really care. There was always work to do downstairs, so I stayed there. It was as simple as that - work downstairs, sleep in my apartment.

That night was rare and special, though. Light wasn't there, of course, since he was being confined as the prime Kira suspect. The task force was absent as well, since L had dismissed them. Matsuda had been getting on his nerves all day, and when Aizawa started yelling at him, L'd had enough. He had essentially banished them until early the next morning. There was no choice for them but to leave. None of them would ever admit it, but no one wanted to risk facing the wrath of the infamous L.

That left me in the control room, alone, with a still very miffed detective. I had every intention of going upstairs, because I didn't exactly feel like arguing with him, either. Or being alone with him. I still felt a heavy sense of awkwardness from that kiss, which had been a puzzling move on his part, albeit a successful one. I had shut up almost the instant he'd done it, just as he apparently wanted.

As it was, I still found myself not knowing what to say sometimes.

I slowly, and very cautiously, rose from my chair, all too aware of the slight sound it made when the wheels rolled a few inches to the left. L wouldn't miss that, but he didn't seem very eager for company and I doubted he'd have a problem with my leaving. I hoped he wouldn't, anyways. He was so hard to read sometimes, and so inconsistent. I think the only things that never really changed about him were his little quirks, like the squatting as opposed to sitting and his odd love of sweets. Even his personality would do a one-eighty sometimes. He would be so suddenly intense, leaving everyone uncertain as to the proper way to react.

So, of course, in that instant, he decided to change his mind about what, exactly, he wanted.

"Leila, is there a problem?" he asked, his voice just as even as it always was. I wondered how he did that. I was certain that he didn't feel for me, and that kiss was just his toying with me like the bastard he was, but I felt certain that he should have felt weird about it anyhow. I certainly did. That single kiss changed how I felt about him entirely, absolutely, and it was interfering with my ability to work with him. Not to mention the fact that I had to avoid being a room alone with him because I couldn't stand the tension that had formed. Tension that was evidently one-sided.

 _Think of a reasonable excuse!_ I was very glad that I was no longer looking at him, because my face was screwed up in a most unappealing way as I struggled to think of something that actually made sense. Finally, I decided that I didn't really need an excuse. "You told everyone to leave," I offered by means of a reason. Of course, I was very aware that he had only told the task force to leave, but I felt no reason to mention that.

L did. "I told everyone else to leave," he corrected, and I cringed. There was really no use trying to get anything past him. It was a waste of energy, and it didn't work, and it would never work. I hadn't really expected my pathetic attempt to be successful, but I was still a little disappointed that it hadn't. I really wasn't looking forward to the probable two hours of tension before he would let me go to bed without any form of harassment. "Is there a problem?" he repeated. "I doubt that you misunderstood me."

"No," I lied, feeling confident that I could at least get away with lying. It was one of the things that I was truly excellent at, and there were a few times where L actually believed my lies. I prided myself in that and quietly hoped that now would be one of those times. Then I came to the really dreadful realization that I had no reason to leave besides the real one, which was definitely going to go unmentioned.

"Then why did you wish to leave?" L asked, his curiosity showing less through his tone than in the question itself. Being a detective, he did carry a certain level of curiosity around with him all of the time. Him more than most, actually. L never left anything unsolved, and he liked to cover all ground in everything from cases to the people he worked with. That was the reason that, since he'd found my real name but almost nothing else about me except the names of my parents, he'd been constantly asking me about my former life. Some times it was less obvious than others, but I still managed to pick them out.

 _Oh, that can be my excuse!_ I shifted where I stood and then turned around, facing him very hesitantly because I was a little embarrassed. For once my cheeks were not flushed, but I couldn't keep my eyes on his face and my hand kept reaching up to scratch the back of my head. "You're constantly pestering me about my life in the U.S., especially when no one else is here," I answered finally, noting with relief that it was dark enough that he might not see my lack of eye contact.

Of course, this relief was short lived. I remembered that L spent most of his time staring at computer screens or papers in dimly lit rooms. As a result, his pupils seemed permanently blown up. No doubt he'd be able to pick out almost anything in that light, even the twitching movements of my eyes in their sockets.

"I am an investigator," he reasoned. He still appeared to be looking at his computer screens, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he was staring at me from the corners of his wide, owlish eyes. It was too often that I couldn't decide to love or hate that stare, careful and cautious but almost penetrating. In fact, sometimes it was a little creepy. "It is in my best interest to be curious - and, of course, to know who exactly I am working with."

He was fishing, something that, for me, was about as bad as it got. Still, he was obviously not planning on letting me leave. I sat back down almost hesitantly and wheeled back over to the monitors, a good five feet from L. "If it's so horrible not knowing every detail of my life, then don't work with me," I replied coldly, suddenly feeling his dark eyes boring into the side of my head.

"If I stopped working with you, I'd have to keep you in a cell like Amane and Light," he pointed out, almost cautiously. _Perhaps he thinks I'll throw something at him,_ I thought with a slight grin. L had witnessed my wrath before. While being small and not trained in any martial art meant I wouldn't be beating anyone up anytime soon, I would scratch or yell or slap - or throw - if I was angry. While a person who does those things might look pathetic and hysterical, they can still do a lot of damage.

"Sounds terrifying," I answered sarcastically, rather annoyed at his attempt at blackmail. He already had me under constant surveillance. The only difference - a horrible one, really - would be that, instead of just him, the entire task force would be watching because the surveillance would be on one of the large monitors. Actually, I was almost tempted to strangle him. But I didn't - not that I'd have succeeded if I tried.

"Doesn't it?" he agreed, sounding almost equally cold. He was apparently irritated that the threat of even further invasion of my privacy didn't warrant all the secrets I'd ever had, but at least he wasn't locking me away yet. I wondered if L was bluffing, or if he really would do that to someone he didn't believe to be Kira. He wasn't exactly a very moral person, but even he had to know that some things were wrong. If he did, did he actually care? Or did he elevate himself above other humans to the point of believing he was above right and wrong?

It was intriguing to me, really. I'd found myself rather smitten with L even though I found his personality almost despicable at times. For being so damn weird-looking, which I knew he was, he was a very attractive individual. Not to mention his admirable genius and drive. And sometimes he could be almost sweet, or even a little funny. It was something that, when I'd first met him, I would have never expected,

But L was far from perfect. As a person, he seemed almost entirely hidden - shut off from everything and everyone. I sometimes thought he was close-minded, though he'd accepted the idea of the supernatural almost too easily. Not to mention the fact that he'd violated me with all his damn cameras and bugs and surveillance. No, L wasn't perfect. In fact, sometimes I wondered if he wasn't almost… evil.

Of course, entertaining deep thoughts about L and what an asshole he was wouldn't get me out of the room, so I sat back down, wheeling my chair back up to the laptop I'd been working at previously. I let my fingers fly numbly across the keyboard, my mind drifting as I began my work. Contrary to popular belief, being clever doesn't make boring work exciting. In fact, it makes it worse. The sharpened mind aches to find enlightening details among all the information it picks up, and when there are no enlightening details, said mind is left disappointed and exhausted, but without the option of quitting.

We were working on finding the Third Kira by that point, and since the Third Kira functioned in almost exactly the same way Light had, we had a hard time finding leads. Scratch that; we _hadn't_ found any leads. At all. And, as far as I was concerned, we probably wouldn't until Light talked to me about it. And that was only if L actually trusted me enough to get real information.

I was suddenly startled to find that L was staring at me again. I'd only noticed because the sound of his hunt-and-pecking had suddenly stopped, and I'd turned to see that not only was he not working, but his dark orbs were locked on me and his chair had moved a foot closer. "Do you want something?" I asked crossly, recalling the day I'd met him, when he did this to me after one of our classes,

"Yes, actually," L said matter-of-factly, turning back to his own laptop and wheeling away so he could hunt-and-peck some more.

I waited for him to say more, and I suppose he must have been waiting for me to say something, or notice something, because it was suddenly very quiet. I used the moment of waiting to reflect on how weird it was that he'd stared at me often enough for him to know that it would catch my attention. Then I got tired of waiting. "Okay. And that would be…?"

L glanced back at me and lifted one of his marvelous, long-fingered hands, then wave it over an empty spot on the counter, like that should mean something to me. At first, I thought he was trying to get me to sit closer to him, which made me feel grossly hot and giddy for a second, but then it meant nothing to me and I couldn't decide what he was asking. I raised one eyebrow, trying to look careless rather than completely confused. I was still angry with him, after all. "I don't have any cake," he said finally, waving over the counter again.

I paused, letting the silence fall again while we sat idly, neither of us working now. "Congratulations." I was being purposely mean now. It was something I did all too often, but at least it was petty and not personal. L was intentionally mean on rare occasions, but it was personal. I figured we were even - that I had an excuse. If only I'd known that he was a dead man. I would have been so much different.

"There is no need for congratulations in such a dire situation," he deadpanned, and I glanced back at him. _What was that? A joke?_ He scooted his chair about a foot closer to me again and leaned over, his eyes conveying a bizarre sense of urgency that almost had me doing jumping jacks or pushups or something. "I was thinking -"

"- that's good -"

"- that you could get me some cake," he continued smoothly, as if I'd not said a word, "from the kitchen." His eyes didn't look pleading or persuasive - just blank. The only thing he was _persuading_ me of was that I should strangle him, which didn't take much convincing at all. Still, a request from L was generally taken as an order, so he may have expected me not to care whether he was persuasive or polite at all.

I didn't even pretend to consider it. I just gave him a flat, short, irritated glare and turned back to my screen. "Maybe you should get your own cake," I suggested, typing and scrolling again, though I wasn't really sure what I was looking at anymore.

L was insistent. He apparently didn't feel like getting up, unless it was some stupid test. Or maybe it was a game. Worst case scenario seemed to be that he was dragging me into a dumbass childish argument, which we had occasionally. While amusing in hindsight, it didn't seem that way while it was actually happening. All I knew was that I didn't feel like doing him any favors. Funny how one off comment can completely change a person's disposition. "I can't leave you here alone," he said, gesturing vaguely at the monitors. "What if something pivotal to the investigation happens and I am not here to witness it? That isn't a risk I can take."

 _What if I come back from the kitchen with a fucking steak knife?_ I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes. "Didn't Watari set up keypads outside all of the rooms? I don't know the code." It was a last and feeble attempt to brush off his request. If he gave me the code, I'd just have to say 'no'.

"The code is 4-2-7-5. I'll simply have Watari change it when you're done," L told me. I heard his chair rolling away and I was also pretty sure I could hear him smirking in satisfaction. "Besides, you were so eager to leave earlier. Maybe you should just take the chance I'm offering you now."

 _Oh,_ I could see what it was now: he wanted one of those stupid arguments. I never really got aggressive when we argued over little things, so maybe he thought I looked funny when I was irritated. He was always provoking me over the dumbest things, so that would explain something. But his reasoning didn't matter; what did matter was that whatever I eventually ended up doing, I lost. If I left, I got alone time, but I also had to fetch L his cake. If I stayed, L would probably take it as a declaration of how much I loved spending time with him or something - which I did. Just not right then.

 _Say no say no sayno sayno saynosaynosayno._ "Fine," I grumbled, rising quickly from my chair and popping my back in the process.

L looked at me, his expression one of completely satisfaction. "Thank you, Leila. Please bring down something with strawberries on it." I glared at him, though I knew it would receive little response. "Maybe you could get yourself a slice of something, too. You like chocolate, don't you?" Like I was a little kid he could bribe with ice cream.

I snorted. "Whatever," I mutter, though I was already on my way to the elevator. Then, I was stricken by an idea. There was a way I could win. I could take almost an hour doing this if I wanted to. So, instead of heading for the elevator, I went for the stairs.

If I wasn't such a stubborn person, taking the stairs would have been a mistake. Thanks to a certain Matsuda starting a small kitchen fire that resulted in the installation of keypads outside some of the rooms, the kitchen had been moved to the tenth floor. In reality, the tenth floor had always been a spare kitchen, _just in case._ Sort of like how there's a spare control room below ground level. That's L for you - always prepared. That's what I used to think anyways.

By the time I got to the tenth floor, I had stitches in my sides and was almost regretting my choice. It probably would have been easier to just give in, but I suppose I'd never been the type. I leaned against a wall and gave myself a second to breathe. I'd definitely be taking the elevator down. That was for sure. Even the satisfaction of making L wait another twenty minutes for his cake wouldn't be worth walking down of those flights of stairs, especially whilst holding something.

Finally, I pushed my back against the wall and forced myself up, sighing at how out of shape I was. I hadn't been walking lately. That, I decided, would be the first thing I'd do once the Kira case was over. I began to make a list as I further put off getting the cake. I'd walk first. Then I'd go to a bookstore. I'd stop skipping my classes at college and actually turn my work in in person instead of via computer. I'd go to a coffee shop and have mocha with whipped cream and chocolate syrup.

I wandered over to the door to the kitchen. To the left of the door there was a small, silver keypad. It was touch screen. The numerals were on small grey squares, and I quickly punched in the numbers '4275'. Upon my hitting the fourth button, three more buttons - red - appeared at the bottom of the screen. Two were small and to the right and left, while one was large and centered. They were presumably a control panel, though I couldn't be sure as, for whatever reason, the buttons weren't even labeled. That seemed questionable to me, but it seemed fairly obvious that the middle button was the one that would open the door.

You know what they say about assuming.

The instant the tip of my finger tapped the centered button, there was a noise that was almost like a mixture of waves crashing down on the sandy shore of the beach and a strong wind. Then the power went out.

Maybe I would have thought that the power outage was a coincidence, but the in the same instant that the room went pitch black, I heard a defined sigh behind me. I spun one hundred-eighty degrees on a heel, but I couldn't see L in the darkness. He may as well have been invisible, though I could definitely still hear him. "You hit the panic button," he said irritably.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "And… the panic button?"

"You were taking a long time," he complained, and I smile. It seemed that my quest to annoy him had been a successful one, at least. Unfortunately, in doing so, I had doomed myself to a world of embarrassment because that meant he'd been here to know that I'd pressed the wrong button. "Every computer in this building has a panic button, to be pushed if there is an intruder in the building. It shuts down the power and locks all doors, effectively trapping them and making them easy to deal with. Unfortunately, it also traps us here."

"Uh-huh. And why weren't the buttons labeled?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Presumably because Watari expected only he would be making use of the keypad," L told me. _Go figure,_ I thought. _Of course, I would've thought that L would've alerted me to this._

Of course now that I knew I pressed the wrong button, I was quick to realize that one of the smaller buttons would have allowed me to advance into the kitchen. Still, it was rather infuriating that L had forgotten to inform me of this earlier. But I couldn't manage to voice that. Instead, much to my horror, I said, "So. I take it... I wasn't supposed to press that button, was I?"

L simply sighed. "No, Leila. I'm afraid that my need for cake didn't quite necessitate such a reaction."

I rolled my eyes at him in the blackness. _That's fresh coming from the guy who practically forced me to come up here._ "Are we stuck of this floor?"

"No," L informed me. "If you have your phone, we can use the flashlight feature and take the stairs." And then, much to my horror, I felt his hand clumsily batting at my shoulder and down my arm until he reached my wrist, as which point I grabbed the offending arm and yanked at it hard enough to draw a shallow groan.

"The _fuck_ ," I whispered, "was that?" My grip tightened uncomfortably around the cool skin of his arm, which he tried to jerk back - to no avail, of course.

" _I_ want to hold the flashlight," he deadpanned, catching me off guard as he twisted his arm from my grip. Perhaps, under normal circumstances, he'd have been able to slip the phone from my pocket in an instant and without my noticing, but in this particular case, the darkness did not fail to impede him. His large hand suddenly landed on my hip. I felt my face begin to heat up as, in less than second, he progressed from touching the curve of my hip to practically groping my ass in his desperate search for my phone.

L and his lack of belief in personal space was beginning to become obnoxious.

I took a quick step back - into the wall, obviously - and pushed one arm straight out in front of me. There was a satisfying thud as my palm slammed into what I assumed was his sternum. In one quick move, I pulled the phone from my pocket and switched it on, illuminating my face in a dull glow. "What the _hell._ Why didn't you just ask?" I gasped, moving away from the wall as L quickly raised himself from the floor.

"Because then you wouldn't let me hold it," he complained, wounding as if he thought that should be obvious.

"Don't you have one of these, anyways?" I asked, heading for the stairway.

"I have no need for one," he answered.

"Hm," was was all I said in response.

I started down the stairs in a hurry. Anytime, the lights would switch back on and we'd have to start working again. Better to be down there when it happened. Unfortunately, L had other ideas, which I only discovered when he grabbed my wrist for the millionth time in a three minute block.

" _What_ do you _want_?" I hissed, turning back at him. He merely began to pull me back up the stairs, his muscles tensing as I fought him to try and remain stationary.

"It will be a while before the monitors cut back on," he drawled, dragging me up another flight of stairs and to another floor. I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. _Where are we going?_ "Right now we won't be able to exit the building, but we will be able to go on the roof, which is probably advisable as the heating and cooling systems are also down."

"How was I supposed to know the button would do that?" I complained, following him willingly now. "Hey, does Watari know this isn't really an emergency situation?"

"Yes," L answered simply, sighing as we reached the next floor. He grabbed the touchscreen phone from my hand and began to lead, meeting little resistance this time. Maybe I was sorry for pushing that dumb button. Maybe I was too tired to argue any more. Maybe I was too confused. Or maybe something about me had sensed that I was running out of time to be seen as a bearable person. I don't know. I will never know. "Would you be willing to walk on your own accord? I tire of pulling you."

"Of course," I replied courteously - or sarcastically. To each his own, I suppose. I followed L up another flight of stairs, then another, and more, until my legs burned and I thought that my only concern was not to have a bearable personality. If I didn't get some exercise, I'd hardly be bars me to look at.

Finally, we reached to roof. The air outside was cool on my skin, which had become hot not only because of the building, but as an embarrassing reaction to being touched, even though it hasn't been meant that way. Still, I sighed as if in relief, and L gave me a small, smug grin, as if to say, ' _I told you so._ '

I had no way of knowing how long it would be until the electricity was back on, so I wandered toward the edge of the roof. I swung my legs over the edge and gripped the cement tightly with my fingernails, as if they'd stop me falling, then looked down. The sight was both stunning and off-putting, but I didn't have much time to take it in before I was interrupted. "Don't do that, Leila," L ordered me and I rolled my eyes, turning back to him. He was ten feet away now, standing five feet from the edge of the building and staring out at the vast, empty sky.

"What?" I asked coldly. "Are you afraid I'll throw myself off? I'm not quite that miserable." I knew I was being rude, hateful, even, but my mood was rapidly switching between merciless and awkward, and an wasn't quite sure what to do with myself.

"No, but there is a risk you'll fall. It's a little windy," L informed me, but I looked down at the streets below, and he said now more of it.

"All of the lights within a mile of here are down," I noted cheerlessly, narrowing my eyes. _I really should_ not _have pressed that stupid button,_ I thought. _I can't even imagine how chaotic it is down there now._

"Yes," L agreed. "It seems that the emergency program has a few minor flaws. We'll sort them out now that we know what they are."

 _Oh my god. If he set me up just to weed out the flaws in the system..._ "Oh," I answered flatly.

"Obviously a functional security system is beneficial to us all," he offered, as if he was defending himself.

"Obviously," I echoed coolly.

L mumbled his agreement and we both faded into an empty, meaningless quiet.

Or maybe it wasn't meaningless. It gave both of us plenty of time to think, and if L was anything like me, it wasn't about the case. No, I thought about everything. I thought about all the stupid whims that led me to this point - my need to be in Japan sprung from nothing more than a weird mixture of remembrance and curiosity regarding the death of Beyond Birthday. On a whim, I had started spending time with Light Yagami. On a whim, I had allowed myself to become captivated with Light's rival, only to be thrown directly into the chaos that was the Kira case.

 _Note to self - make better choices._

But how could I regret the people I'd met? I shouldn't have been able to, but I did, even L, even the task for members. My life would have been easier and less stressful without them. I could have continued my ignorance of the supernatural and avoided thinking of my past. I would never have to worry about be psychoanalyzed by someone cleverer than me, who I couldn't manipulate. I would be safe. Not happy, but at least safe.

And the more I thought of it, the more I wondered if my so-called love for the figurehead - no, the _human,_ the man - L was nothing more than childish affection, or obsession. Maybe it was just hormones, a mind and body aching for the type of relationship it was never meant to have. How could it really be love if I regretted the way my life had changed? How could it be love when I'd never allowed myself to feel those things before, and still ached to erase from my mind because they were hard to handle?

It wasn't love. It was a sick obsession - an addled mind seeking comfort from one they'd spent months with. That had to be it.

I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands. _Not love. Not love. Incapable - it's forbidden..._ All I wanted was for things to be simple. But the times when things were simple, I knew, would never return. And I hated it.

 _That's why it's not love. I hate it all. I hate him. I hate how he's changed me._

I could not allow him to distract me anymore. I wouldn't see him again after the case closed, anyways. That's what I assumed - but you know what they say about assuming.

There was a humming noise and J watched the city below me flicker back into a lifelike state. I silently wondered how long I'd been sitting there, and how long I had allowed myself to ponder what I now realized was nothing more than a falsehood - my newfound and so-called ability to 'love'. I turned, sliding one leg over the edge and then the other, then I stepped back onto the roof to head back inside. I could already see the fluorescent bulbs glowing brilliantly from the door. I could only hope it would cool down quickly.

And that's when I noticed I was not being followed.

I turned around to see that L hadn't moved an inch. He was still standing, staring up at the sky as the wind blew against him and wrinkled his thin white shirt around his torso. His eyes seemed locked on a distant place that I couldn't quite see - a memory? -, and looked almost in pain.

I winced. _I really should not have pressed that button._ With that look in his eyes, he was now the last person I wanted to talk to. But I was the only one on the roof, and therefore the task was left to me.

"L?" I whispered, my voice carrying well in the silence. "Are you... are okay?" He still didn't move, not even to look at me, but then his lips began to move, his voice so quiet that I could hardly hear him. I moved closer, my arms hugging my sides against the wind chill. "What was that?"

"The bells," he told me. "They're getting louder, you know."

I listened, but I didn't hear any bells - only the light whistle of the very wind that seemed to chill my skin. I bit my lip, listening harder. I could almost hear the cars below, but no bells. None at all. But L seemed sane to me, he always had, and I didn't want to question his sanity just then. So I stood there another moment before saying, "Oh. Well, I... don't hear any. Where do you think the sounds coming from?"

"Maybe," he began, his eyes not moving from a distant, black spot in the sky, "they're church bells. A wedding, or..."

"L, I hardly think anyone's getting married this time of night. This isn't Vegas," I replied icily, choosing to ignore the blatant morbidity of his statement. "And I really don't think there are any bells. Maybe you're tired."

"Maybe," he echoed.

"Are you coming inside? The powers back on," I said, hurrying in without an answer.

Sometimes I think about this incident and I think that I really should have stayed and talked, and I shouldn't have been so horribly cold. I didn't have to act in love, if that was even what it was, but I should have been a friend. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe then, when he died, I wouldn't have felt so horribly responsible for it. And then I realize that there's no changing the past, and that somehow, I will have to pay him back.

And then there are the other times - the times when I think, _Damn. I really shouldn't have pushed that button.  
_

* * *

 _Blah blah blah emotions_

 _Blah blah blah my sense of humor is terrible blah_


End file.
